


Sea Shanties and Rogue Smiles

by lustfulpasiphae (miraphora)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 04:06:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6640828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miraphora/pseuds/lustfulpasiphae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a tumblr prompt: First time cunnilingus. </p><p>Ostensibly this is Cullen and an Inquisitor, but this may eventually disappear or be recategorized as original fiction. Watch as I indulge my continued love affair with the sea!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sea Shanties and Rogue Smiles

He watches her pleasure herself from the doorway. The surf pounds on the sandy shore outside this ramshackle hideaway, and the rhythm syncs with his heartbeat as he watches the muscles of her forearm flex and her thighs spread apart wantonly-–he’s called her wanton and worse, to feel her tighten about him with sharp gasps of desire, and made her wild vows besides-–if she ever collected on every oath he has sworn while his cock was deep in her sweet, aching cunt, he’d be a broken shell of a man wrecked on rocky shoals. She asks little, though–-she takes what he offers, no more, barely asks anything for herself. 

He wants to give her everything.

There is a hurried hitch in her breathing as he steps quietly into the room, any sound of his movement concealed by the susurrus of waves and sand and the breeze hissing as it steals through the window to billow the rough muslin curtains. 

Her eyes are shut, lashes a short dark fringe on her cheeks, and her wrist works furiously as her quick, panting breaths become a strained cry, caught sotto voce behind full lips. He wants to hear her cries at full voice, a hymn of praise and he prays his name is in it. 

He’s not used yet to the quirks of this shanty-–a warped board creaks beneath his weight, and she jerks and tightens with startlement and release all at once, her cry unstrung and flying like a gull brightwinged above the sea.

He is near now-–he sinks to his knees before her, as the muslin curtains snap in a sharp gust of wind like sails of a ship, and her skin pebbles beneath his hot hands. Her eyes flare open, fixing him and anchoring him, and he slides his hands beneath her quaking thighs, tugging her close and easing her knees over his shoulders.

She hasn’t caught breath enough to speak, but the startlement has eased into speculation and edges quickly into an aborted protest as she tries to stop him from slaking his thirst at the sweet, heated well of her cunt. He catches one of her fingertips delicately in his lips, kissing lightly, and smirks like a rogue and a rake, knowing the effect his scar has on her.

She holds herself uncertainly as his lips drag along the inside of her thigh, tasting her skin, the salt and tart tangy scent of her arousal filling his senses. He wants to drown in her seas, storm-tossed and lost in her. She catches her breath as his tongue drags along tender skin where the slickness of her pleasure has smeared, and she makes a sound of protest, averring-–and he **growls** hungrily.

His eyes seek hers, he holds her fast, open before him, feels her calves come to rest carefully against his back as her gaze softens wonderingly. They communicate wordlessly, and he reads the history of her past loves and the way they left her bereft in the way she bites her lip. His hands cup and heft the round swell of her ass, and he pulls her in closer, still holding her fraying gaze as he laps between the puffed lips of her cunt, swirls his tonguetip around the still faintly throbbing pearl–-and closes his lips in a tender kiss. 

Her voice rings out in an aching cry of need, and she lets her head fall back, her fingers coming up without thinking to tangle in his hair. He moans proudly against her heat, and tightens his hands around her ass, his kiss seeking out the rich, sweet slick of her pleasure, his tongue delving deep to taste and stroke. He chases the faint echoes of her orgasm, determined to earn another-–determined to leave her wrung out and weak with pleasure, to hear his name from her lips, to replace all the disappointments of the past with the satisfaction of the present. 

The taste of her fills his mouth and he nips and licks, teasing and taking and promising here too with his tongue, swearing oaths with his body as he has sworn them with his voice and his heart. 

She begs before he is done, and he is glad to obey, to give her whatever she asks, to feel her pulse with salt and slick and sweet, tart heat against his tongue, tremulous and fluttering with satisfaction.

His name leaves her lips, winging quick and liquid over the waves outside their refuge. Her love is a secret she tells to the gulls.


End file.
